


Something Nice and Slow

by onebatch2batch



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, I love when Frank talks about his kids, So I wanted to write something with him remembering something about them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 21:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12968805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onebatch2batch/pseuds/onebatch2batch
Summary: Karen stops by to check in on a friend, and learns more about him than she expected. Post-Punisher series.





	Something Nice and Slow

Karen liked to think that she had Frank’s personality down by now. She’s gone through hell and back at his side, spent a decent amount of time with him recreationally, and was one of the few people he confided in. It's been exactly half a year since he left Billy Russo bloodied on that carousel, and since then he's made an effort to integrate into society. This included going to his vet group with Curtis, getting a job as a handyman, and spending time with his friends--i.e, David and Karen. He spent a good amount of time with Karen lately, eating in shitty dinners, watching movies, and doing mundane chores. With every day that passed, Karen grew more and more confident in knowing just who he was. That’s why when she walked up to his apartment door and heard the gentle strumming of a guitar, she assumed it was the radio. 

She knocked, hoping he wouldn’t mind if she stopped by, and the music abruptly cut off. She blinked in surprise and heard him walk up to the door. After a pregnant pause, he opened it and cocked an eyebrow at her. 

“Aren’t you s’posed to be at work?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning on the door frame. 

She huffed good-naturedly at him. “Wow, Frank, good to see you too. I took a long lunch and haven’t heard from you in a couple days so I thought I’d drop by.”

Frank hesitated, like he was about to say something, make up an excuse, but he only shook his head and gestured over his shoulder. “I’ll make coffee.”

She sat on his couch as he moved around the kitchen, looking around curiously. She'd been in Frank's apartment only a couple of times, and each time he'd accumulated more. The bookshelf by the tv stand was finally filling up with books, and some of the titles always made her smile. She never would have taken him for a classics guy. She glanced around the room at the odd knick knacks he had added since she'd last been there (more books, a couple DVDs, and some kind of houseplant). Finally, her eyes landed on the guitar that was propped up against the wall in the corner of the room. She stood and walked over, calling out. “I didn’t know you played.”

Frank appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking for all intents and purposes, bashful. He thumbed his nose and watched her pick up the guitar. “'Have since I was a kid. David had one in the bunker, but hadn’t played since—…for a while. Before that.”

His tone fell flat, catching on emotion.

Karen shot him a sympathetic look, and then turned her attention back to the instrument in her hands. She sat on the couch, holding it in her lap. “You any good?” she teased, trying to lighten him up. 

Thankfully, he took the bait, sitting beside her with a smirk. “Little rusty, but I’ve still got it in me.”

Karen strummed the guitar lightly, grimacing at the sound it produced. “I’ve never played an instrument. When I was a kid I wanted to play something big and loud, like the trombone. Band teacher forced the flute on me. I hated it, so I quit and joined track instead.”

Frank threw an arm over the back of the couch, watching her pluck at the string experimentally. “Yeah? I picked it up from my pops. When I was home on leave I tried to teach Frankie but he didn’t give a shit, just wanted to play those damn video games.” Like any time Frank mentioned his kids, his face adopted a fond look, but his eyes were dark with grief. Karen looked over as her hands stilled, waiting. These moments were important to him, and important to her as well. She liked to listen to him talk about happier times, even if they were coated in a layer of sadness. And she wanted him to be able to talk to her about these things, so she always listened with understanding intensity. “Usually anytime I tried to teach him he just—he just told me he wanted me to play. _I wanna hear you play, Dad._ ” 

Frank’s quiet laughter broke her heart. She touched his sleeve gently and offered him a small smile. “What about Lisa, did she want to learn?” she prompted.

“Ahh,” Frank smiled softly. He had a faraway look in his eyes, like he was picturing it. “Nah, but she begged me to play anytime I came home. She loved that shit, us sitting outside and just makin’ up songs. I would play and she would just sing the craziest shit, whatever popped into her head.”

Karen hummed, smiling. She could almost see the two of them, could almost hear a young girl’s voice accompanying Frank’s deep baritone. The image filled her up with equal parts sadness and happiness, like his stories always did. At times like this she could always see the father and husband, rather than just Frank Castle, the dead vigilante. See could see what could of been. Karen turned away to hide the way her eyes began to mist up and strummed a couple chords in the silence. 

Frank was quiet for a long time, listening to Karen’s timid playing. Eventually, she spoke up. “You know, Frank, I don’t want to overstep. Or--or make you upset. But anytime you talk about them I can picture it in my head. And I wish—…I wish I could have seen it. They clearly loved you so much.”

At first, he didn’t respond and she was worried that she’d angered him. Then, he let out a long sigh. “Yeah, they did. I—…” He trailed off, struggling.

He didn’t have to finish. She didn't know what it was like having children and then losing them before their time, but she had lost people in her life. She knew what he left unsaid. They lapsed into silence once again and Karen filled it with her unsure plucking. She’d seen people play the guitar before, and she knew how it looked, but replicating it was a whole other story. The sound coming from beneath her fingers was nothing short of a disaster.

She was about to give up when suddenly she felt Frank move closer. His hand wrapped around her left one without preamble, positioning it over the neck of the guitar. His opposite arm snaked around her waist to place the guitar on her hip and Karen felt her breath leave her in one quick exhale. 

“You’ll want this hand here,” he murmured, “and this hand….here.”

A shiver crawled its way up Karen’s spine. She hadn’t been this close to Frank in a long time, since they traded goodbyes in that elevator. Sure, they had spent plenty of time together since then and certainly grown closer, but he never gave any indication of feeling anything other than friendship for her. She, on the other hand, was a different story. More and more recently, Karen had found herself watching Frank, gaze lingering on him when he wasn't paying attention. She had dreams at night of his hands on her and woke up to stark loneliness. She felt herself grow fonder and fonder of the man who drank his coffee black and sweet, and who crashed on her couch when they'd had too much to drink, only to be gone before she woke. 

She wanted Frank, and she had known for a while. No matter how much she wanted him, she could never bring herself to act on it, though; she refused to be one more person to take advantage of Frank Castle. So she shoved away her feelings, forcing herself to be content as just friends. Pining from a distance. 

Karen came back to herself, feeling the heat radiating from his hands and his breath on her neck. She closed her eyes, hiding behind the curtain of her hair. The outsides of their thighs were pressed against one another, and she was having trouble collecting her thoughts. 

“Now what?” Karen asked, a little breathlessly. The loaded question hung in the air between them, circled around their heads tauntingly. She felt his hand leave hers to come up and brush her hair over her shoulder so he could catch her gaze. 

Unsure. Wondering. Vulnerable. Determined. Karen watched the emotions fly across his face, and she was amazed that someone nicknamed The Punisher could be so emotive, when he had every reason not to be. After what seemed like forever, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, hand coming up to cradle her cheek. She leaned into his space (a little awkwardly with the guitar on her lap), closing her eyes. The moment was so familiar, but so fragile; she felt like if she moved a single muscle he would realize what he was doing and draw away. 

Sometimes, though, she wondered what it would be like if she acted on her feelings and he reciprocated. Would he welcome it? Would he take her in his arms? It seemed like just a fantasy…until now. Now, she wasn't sure what to do. 

“Now what, Frank?” she repeated quietly after a moment. He hadn’t said anything, and he was breathing slowly, like he was gathering courage for something. Finally, she felt him take the guitar from her, heard him set it on the ground at their feet. His hand returned to her face, fingers in her hair, thumb brushing her lips. She opened her eyes to look at him. 

She could stay like this forever, she decided as he took a steadying breath. “Now you feel free to punch me,” he said lightly, as a joke, but the desperation in his voice caused it to fall flat. “But I have half a mind to kiss you.”

“Then you better do it,” Karen said with the tiniest of smiles, “before the other half kicks in.”

Frank’s lips met hers with a passion she wasn’t expecting. She responded in kind, twisting her body in order to reach him better. Whereas her mind had been flying at warp speed just seconds ago, now her thoughts were blissfully empty except one: _Frank Frank Frank_.

Her fingers found the hem of his shirt and she took it in her hands as he licked his way into her mouth. His short beard scratched at her skin, sending pleasant tingles down her spine. This was everything she dreamed of and more; she felt as if his fingers were imprinting on her skin. His arm suddenly encircled her waist, lifting her to straddle his lap. She huffed out a laugh when his fingers crept up her thigh, and smiled apologetically when he pulled back. “That tickles,” she whispered, as if they were two teenagers making out behind a bookshelf in the library. As if, if she spoke any louder, she would destroy the moment forever and he would stop. 

His eyes said otherwise. Under the gleam of amusement they were dark, like molten chocolate. For the first time he look unencumbered, relaxed…. _happy_. Karen tilted her head and rested her hand on his chest. He was breathless, staring up at her with something like adoration. 

“This wasn’t what I came here to do, you know.” She tried for glib, but her tone came out more shaky than anything.

Frank laughed and ducked his head to kiss her jaw. “You plannin’ on leavin’ now?”

“Like hell.” Karen grinned at him, lacing her fingers behind his neck. “You’re stuck with me, Castle. On one condition.”

His eyes darkened, and she felt his fingers grasp at the zipper of her skirt. “What’s that, ma’am?”

“You better play me something nice and slow on that guitar of yours later.” 

Frank smirked, leaning forward to press a kiss on her lips. 

“Deal.”


End file.
